Page 4 of Goody Magic Academy: Year Three

I narrowed my eyes, suspicion warring with hope. “Meaning what?”

“Look, Peyton, can we talk about this later? Or the dragon lady will suspect something’s up.” Impatience colored his words, his foot tapping restlessly.

I folded my arms, partly as a show of defiance, partly to hide my trembling hands. “Not until you tell me the truth.” My voice came out braver than I felt. Inside, everything was quivering like a plucked string.

He gritted his teeth, frustration flashing in his eyes. “Okay, little miss Doubting Thomas. If you must know, Dimitri Dragan and a reaper broke the spell. Satisfied?”

As he reached for my arm, I scooted away, my heart racing. Fear of those damned power-binding cuffs had my skin crawling. This was just another trap to bind my powers again. “Don’t touch me. You’re not putting those bracelets on me again,” I hissed, pressing myself further into the wall.

He held up his hands, palms out, his expression a mix of exasperation and urgency. “I have zero intention of binding your powers again. That wasn’t my idea the first time anyway, remember? That was all the dragon lady.”

He took another step closer, then stopped and put up his hands. “All right,” he said. “I’m not going to touch you, but we’ve really got to get the hell out of here before our favorite jailer comes back.”

He headed toward the door, his movements quick and purposeful. Over his shoulder, he tossed back, “Or do you want to stay here and become her favorite zoo exhibit?”

I held up a hand. “Wait. Does the high priestess really have my dad?”

He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry to say so, but it’s true. Your father truly is a black dragon, and he hid the Dragon Nexus—something that she desperately wants. That’s why she imprisoned him.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I forced my stiff legs to move, my muscles protesting after hours of relative inactivity. Gathering my courage, I darted past him, the rush of sudden movement making my head spinslightly. I just prayed she didn’t have cameras up there watching our every move.

Adrenaline surged through my veins and my heart pounded in my ears as I sprinted down the corridor, frantically trying to see who was in each cell. Which one held my father? After years of wondering about his whereabouts, was he really just beyond one of these cold metal doors?

A strong hand gripped my arm and yanked me to a stop before I could get too far. I whirled around ready to fight, only to find myself face to face with Jaxon. His eyes, usually so guarded, now blazed with an intensity that gave me pause.

“No,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “You’re only going to make things worse, Peyton. Trust me. I know.”

I tried to wrench my arm free, but his grip was like iron. “Let go of me,” I spat, glancing nervously over my shoulder. “My father. I have to?—”

“Have to what, exactly?” Jaxon cut me off, his words sharp but tinged with something that sounded almost like concern. “Burst into a highly warded cell without a plan? Get yourself captured, or worse? Think, Peyton! Do you even know what he looks like?”

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water, momentarily dousing the fire of my impulsive actions. I stopped struggling and really looked at Jaxon. The tightness around his eyes, the slight tremor in his hand that still held my arm fast—he wasn’t just trying to stop me. He was genuinely afraid.

Was he trying to protect me?

Finn’s voice echoed in my mind. I could almost see his skeptical frown and hear the warning in his voice insisting that Jaxon would betray me. Finn would have insisted Jaxon was leading me into a trap.

But Finn wasn’t here. And looking into Jaxon’s eyes, I saw something I had never noticed before—a flicker of shared painand understanding. Whatever his motives, whatever secrets he was keeping, in this moment, I sensed he was truly trying to protect me from making a terrible mistake.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing myself to think beyond the maelstrom of emotions clouding my judgment. “Okay,” I finally said, my voice little more than a whisper. “But you have to tell me what’s really going on here, Jaxon. No more half-truths, no more evasions. If my father is here, I deserve to know everything.”

Jaxon’s shoulders sagged slightly with relief, but the tension didn’t leave his face. He glanced furtively down the hallway, then back to me. “Not here,” he murmured. “It’s not safe. Come—I know a place where we can talk.”

Jaxon pulled the hood back over his head, obscuring his features. He led me down the corridor, his footsteps quiet on the stone floor. I glanced toward the other cells, my heart clenching as I wondered how many other poor souls were locked behind those doors with no way of escape.

Instead of exiting via the door he had come through, he stopped abruptly and my breath caught as I watched him tap on four different stones. The wall groaned and shifted, revealing a secret passage lit by torches. The flickering light cast dancing shadows that almost seemed to reach for us.

“Follow this until you reach a door at the very end,” he instructed, his voice low and urgent. “Once you’re there, there will be a stone wall in front of you. One of the stones has a cat engraved on it. Tap the engraving three times. The door will open, and you’ll end up in the courtyard.”

My stomach plummeted. “You’re not coming with me?”

He shook his head, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “No. I was ordered to check on the prisoners and report back.”

Fear gripped me. “She’ll know for sure that you helped me.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But something’s happened to her powers, so maybe not. I think Dimitri used the Solarite ring on her and it diminished them some.”

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